Crapshow Compendium

Crushed.

                                                                     

"That'll be 15.45, sir."

Jim put out the last order, watched the customer leave the restaurant, and started locking the place up.

It had been quite a while since he had taken this job, and unusual incidents were pretty uncommon. His schedule looked like this:

Monday: wake up, work, go home.

Tuesday: wake up, work, go home.

Wednesday: wake up, work, go home.

Thursday: wake up, work, go home.

Friday wake up, work, receive paycheck, go home.

Saturday: something that is not work.

Sunday: Something that Is not work.

However, today was not going to be the same.

When he finally shut off the lights, locked the door, and locked the cash register, he went to take the trash out to the compactor.

In the back of the restaurant, there was a large trash compactor, that was opened and closed by a remote. Jim took all the trash bags and plodded over to the compactor. His boss had warned him of the dangers of using the compactor. Unfortunately, Jim had completely ignored him, and had been sleeping over the phone.

When Jim threw the bags into the compactor, he meant to walk to the remote and press the button, but as he turned toward the remote...

WHACK.

He was knocked into the hole. Jim looked up to see a tall, pale, white figure standing over him. It smiled, as it reached for the button. Desperate, he started attempting to scramble up the steep, deep, greasy, bloody hole.

Wait... bloody?

F***.

WHIIIIIRRRRRRCRUUNNCHHHH.

That morning, the boss found a hand sticking out of the closed compactor door. He smiled, as he picked up the hand, and tossed a wad of cash into a dark corner.

"Thanks, Smiley."

When he looked back from the garbage bin, the cash was gone, a bloodstain in it's place.